


Something lasts through time

by Maydaylily



Category: Nurarihyon no Mago | Nura: Rise of the Yokai Clan
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Mystery, POV Outsider, Post-Canon, let's play a game called Spot The Youkai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24114502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maydaylily/pseuds/Maydaylily
Summary: In Ukiyoe Town, there is a guardian.“Grandma, why do you always leave snacks out in the kitchen?”“It’s an offering for an old friend, my dear.”
Relationships: Nura Rikuo & Torii Natsumi
Comments: 59
Kudos: 112





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Am I posting this a decade after the anime? Yes.  
> Am I ever gonna get over NuraMago? _No_.
> 
> This is my first fic, so please be gentle with any criticism.

**I. 6 years old**

Yui loves her grandmother. She knows how to make tons of traditional snacks and always tells the best bedtime stories. And Grandma will always, _always_ listen to her fantasy ramblings, she never dismisses Yui like other people would.

But sometimes Yui doesn’t really understand the elder woman.

“Grandma, why do you always leave snacks out in the kitchen?” Won’t that attract pests?

“It’s an offering for an old friend, my dear.”

Offering? Why would you put the offerings in the kitchen and not in front of a shrine or— at least on a table? she wonders.

“Windowsills are also fine if you don’t like the kitchen, dear,” her grandmother offers, smiling like there an inside joke.

Yui nods dutifully, even if she’s doesn’t understand.

* * *

**II. 7 years old**

Grandma has been teaching her how to make paper cranes. Her chubby fingers are clumsy, but Grandma praises her when she managed her first ever Origami1. Yui feels on top of the world.

“Paper cranes bring good fortune,” Grandma says.

Yui gingerly sets her first crane in her treasure box.

* * *

There’s a little shrine Grandma often visits. When Yui asks, she told her it’s a shrine for ‘Senba-sama’, the local guardian for health and longevity.

Oh, is that why they build a hospital nearby? Yui nods to herself, proud that she figured it out all on her own.

She goes with Grandma the next time she visits the little shrine. It’s cozy, Yui thinks, as she watches her grandmother pray quietly after carefully placing a few paper cranes on the stand. Grandma looks peaceful here.

She put her hands together, just like Grandma. “Hello, Senba-sama, my name is Yui. I hope you like the paper cranes, Grandma and I made them together!”

The breeze feels gentle and warm.

* * *

**III. 8 years old**

Recently Yui likes to stay up late. The house at night feels unfamiliar and exciting, Yui decides it’s the perfect setting for Adventurer Yui and her epic quest. She sneaks around with the lights off, her blanket tied around her neck like a cape and a tiny flashlight as her sword.

A window in the living room is open. Did Grandma forget to close it? Yui stands on her toes to peer out of it.

It’s foggy. The moon’s gentle shine half obscured by the clouds. The little sakura in the garden is swaying lightly. They had only moved the sapling from its pot last year, but the sakura tree is already producing flowers. Grandma says the tree is blessed.

A drift of chilly night air ruffles her hair, and she shivers. Yui thinks there is laughter coming from the shadows. She glares at the darkness, daring it to turn into a monster and challenge her mighty sword.

All is quiet, except for a few sakura petals drifting down.

Yui huffs. She tightens the cape around herself and marches back into her room.

* * *

**IV. 9 years old.**

Grandma’s legs are getting weak, so Yui volunteers to visit Senba-sama when she is too tired to make the trip.

Today when she gets home, there is a young stranger with brown hair chatting with Grandma. He is wearing glasses, so he must be smart. Maybe a college student?

The stranger gives her a kind smile, and Yui returns a polite little bow. His eyes look like ambers.

They’re very pretty.

Grandma says something, and the stranger turns away. Yui grabs the opportunity to scurry back into her room, her face mysteriously warm.

* * *

Later, she discovers that the little plate in the kitchen usually filled with ‘offerings’ is empty. Strange, did the snacks spoil already?

* * *

**V. 11 years old**

Yui saw the stranger a few more times after that. Grandma always seems happy to see him. Yui notices that their snack reserves usually drop to ‘critically low’ after the young man’s visits, though.

She figures Grandma just likes to adopt hungry young people. She doesn’t mind, because her grandma always took care to make extra servings for her. Yui is _clearly_ still Grandma’s favorite.

She really needs to remember to ask for his name, though.

* * *

**VI. 13 years old**

Her grandmother passes away when she is thirteen.

The funeral is small, mostly family. Grandma had mentioned that most off her friends have passed before her.

At least Grandma won’t be alone, she thinks. The air feels grim and heavy.

There are crows circling above.

* * *

**VII. 14 years old**

The house is quiet. Yui doesn’t bother to move from her bed. Most of her things are still at her grandmother’s house, her new room bare and stifling. Nothing matters, no one cares anyway.

Someone rings the doorbell, the sound obnoxiously cheerful. Yui groans into her pillow, before getting up reluctantly. When she finally opens the front door,though, she finds a neatly wrapped package on the doorstep. The sender is already walking away.

“Hey, wait!” Yui calls out on instinct, and the person turns slightly. It’s the college student with amber eyes. She feels her heart skip a beat in—surprise? excitement? nostalgia?

He smiles warmly at her and gives her a wave, before turning away again. Yui waves back, not sure if it’s supposed to be a greeting or a thank you or a farewell.

* * *

She unwraps the package back on her bed. It’s… it’s her treasure box.

Yui stares at it for a few moments. Then she hugs it to her chest, _tightly_. Her shoulders are shaking.

* * *

**VIII. 17 years old**

Yui strolls through the bustling shopping district, the vibrant signs finally adding some color to her boring day. She sometimes comes here for excitement, fed up with the repetitive routine of school life.

She wonders if her grandmother would be disappointed in her. A stray crow stares at her from the on top the signs, as if judging her life choices. Yui looks away.

A man approaches her, his smile too friendly and eyes too dark. Yui shakes off his invitation with a cold voice and turns to leave, but the man is insistent. He grabs her hand and starts pulling her towards a side alley. Fear seizes Yui’s heart. She wants to struggle and scream, but her voice is stuck in her throat.

There is a whoosh, a thump, and a shift in the air.

She doesn’t know when she closed her eyes, but when Yui opens them again, she is sitting against a wall, and the pervert is on the ground, three meters away from her. He is staring at something behind her in the alley, his face ashen white and eyes filled with horror.

She turns her head. There is nothing there.

The man lets out a high-pitched _eep_ and scrambles up, escaping into the crowd. Yui stays there for a few more minutes until her heart stops beating like a drum.

The wall is a steady presence besides her.

A teenage girl comes to ask her if she’s alright, and Yui takes the offered hand gratefully. The girl’s hand is cold, but somehow Yui feels comforted. She let herself be guided towards the safety of the main street. Before she leaves though, Yui steals a glance back at the alley.

A pair of red eyes stares back from the dark.

* * *

**IX. 20 years old**

Yui is still not used to the responsibilities of an adult. Sometimes she feels like she is drowning under the waves of _You should, You’d better, You must._

Perhaps it’s because she misses the memories of her carefree childhood, Yui finds herself in front of Senba-sama’s shrine. The little shrine looks a bit shaggier since the last time she visited, and Yui feels a pang of guilt. Her visits have become less and less frequent after her grandmother’s death.

After brushing the fallen leaves from the little rooftop, Yui kneels before the shrine, and puts her palm together, the way she’d watch her grandmother do. Her prayers are fumbling and awkward at first, but she feels herself calm in the familiarity of the peaceful atmosphere.

Next time she should bring some paper cranes as thanks.

Yui smiles wryly at herself as she stands; Senba-sama is supposed to be the deity of health and longevity, but she seems to make him listen to all her trivial problems. She hopes he doesn’t mind.

The soft breeze is fresh and comforting.

She passes a monk as she is leaving, giving him a polite nod. It’s nice that Senba-sama has other people to visit him. Kinda rare to see monks in this city, though.

* * *

**X. 22 years old**

There’s no kitchen in her newly rented apartment. She can make do, Yui supposes. She glances at the windowsill.

* * *

**XI. 25 years old**

No one’s sure about the cause. Some say it’s an explosion, some say it’s the recent earthquakes, others say it’s just faulty construction. But no matter what, an empty building had collapsed without warning.

Yui just happened to be passing through. The rumble had caught her off guard, and when she looked up, chunks of concrete were already rushing towards her. She had thought—…

Yui sits at the emergency booth, still dazed. Civilians have pitched in to help the aftermath, there are even people who look like biker gangs trying to remove the rubble.

The sky is dark with stormy clouds. Yui tries to breathe through the heavy feeling in her chest. Somehow, miraculously, none of the falling debris had hit her. Or perhaps something—someone?—had protected her?

Yui watches as the medics bustle around the other survivors. _It’s a miracle_ , some of them whisper. _They should’ve died._ She tightens the shock blanket around her shoulders.

She thinks back to the paper crane in her treasure box. _Good Fortune._

* * *

Yui goes to visit Senba-sama and a few other shrines after that.

* * *

**XII. 26 years old**

There is someone at her grandmother’s grave. Yui adjusts her hold on the bouquet of flowers, wondering if she should approach.

The figure looks lean and young, probably in their early twenties. They are wearing a loose jacket, with the hood pulled over their head, so Yui can’t really determine anything else from this angle. Are they a distant family? The child of one of Grandma’s friends? Yui doesn’t recall anyone around her age that was close to her grandmother.

The person stands from where they were kneeling and turns to leave. Yui feels a little disappointed that she won’t get to talk to them, but she’s still grateful that someone took the time to visit Grandma.

Yui takes the spot the stranger had vacated, watching from the corner of her eye as they head for the opposite direction she just came from. The person reaches up to adjust their hood, and there is a flash of _familiar_ brown hair. Yui twirls around.

But there is no one there anymore.

Before the gravestone, a few sakura petals and a half-filled Sake2 cup remained.

* * *

**XIII. 27 years old**

Her neighbor’s room caught fire in the dead of night.

Yui had been woken by the heat and the screams, and it was the fastest she’s ever jumped out of bed. By the time she made it to safety though, the roaring fire had fizzled out, for some reason.

They say the room is somehow chilly. The firefighters look incredibly confused, but they seem to collectively decide not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

She notices a familiar face among the gathering crowd. The teenager reminds Yui of the girl that had helped her in The alley, so many years ago. They look very similar.

She had cold hands, Yui remembers.

* * *

…  
……  
She is starting to suspect that maybe her grandma’s bedtime stories aren’t just fairy tales.

* * *

Yui blames it on the slippery road and her stupid shoes. She’d slipped and fell, grocery and all, into the river. The winter river is freezing, and her clothes are pulling her down, down, down despite her thrashing struggle. Yui wonders—for the Third Freaking Time—if she would die.

Someone pulls—no, _pushes_ her out.

After she finishes coughing her lungs out on the ground, Yui turns to stare at the river.

The water twinkles.

* * *

Um.

* * *

Okay, so she’s not sure if it’s merely a series of coincidences, or there’s actually an guardian angel(spirit?) specifically looking out for her.

Yui puts out a plate of fresh Dango3 on the windowsill as thanks, just in case.

* * *

The next day the Dango is gone.

* * *

Deep breaths, Yui. _Deep breaths._

* * *

**XIV. 32 years old**

Yui manages to get her hands on the sakura tree from her grandmother’s garden. The tree has grown tall and sturdy over the years. When she brushes her hand against its branches, it feels like reuniting with an old friend.

Yui carefully, carefully plants it in her own backyard. A few crows watch her curiously from the roof.

That night, she thinks she hears soft laughter in the wind. A couple petals flew in from the window.

* * *

She finds the sakura in full bloom the next day. It’s _winter_.

* * *

**XV. 33 years old**

Yui considers her kitchen. It’s a lot smaller than her grandmother’s, but it’s enough for some homemade snacks. Yui reaches for the mixing bowl.

 _An offering for an old friend_ , she had said. Yui wonders which friend her grandma meant.

…She wonders if she has ever met them.

* * *

**XVI. 34 years old**

Yui is standing in the middle of a crowded night market, people in yukata and face masks pass around her as they enjoy the summer festival. She is trying to decide if she needs another set of painted dishes, when a splash of color catches her eye.

Amber.

A young man in dark colored kimono stands a few vendors away from her, speaking to a monk in a bamboo hat. The wind ruffles his brown hair, and familiar amber peers out from under his bangs.

Something stirs in her mind—a blurry memory of when she was nine, fourteen, twenty six.

He looks _exactly_ the same.

Yui is frozen on the spot, as she watches the impossible figure from a distance away. He is gesturing at something across the marketplace, a concentrated look on his face. The monk frowns and asks a question. Neither of them notice Yui staring.

Another person comes to say something, and they turn to leave. On the back of his Haori4, a single Kanji5 nestles within a family symbol.

* * *

**XVII. 35 years old**

Yui finds an old photo among her grandmother’s things. It’s _ancient_ , the color faded and the paper fragile. It was carefully placed in an envelope, between the pages of a well-loved diary.

A group of teenagers smile back at her, gathered in an empty classroom. The markings on their uniform say _Ukiyoe Middle School_. Yui recognizes Grandma from her smile and the shape of her eyes. She is not the only familiar face though.

Yui’s fingers stop at the other corner of the photo, barely touching. _An old friend_ , Grandma had said.

Ah. That answers her question.

* * *

**XVIII. 37 years old**

When she finally sees him again, it’s beneath the blossoming branches of a sakura tree. He turns in surprise when she tugs on his sleeve.

Yui gathers her courage and looks him in the eye. “Thank you,” she says, her first words to the guardian spirit that has watched out for Yui all her life.

His eyes widen a bit, before softening into a smile. It’s warm, same as the one he gave her almost thirty years ago.

* * *

**XIX. ???**

“Granny, do you think youkai are real?” her granddaughter asks her.

“Of course I do,” she answers peacefully, setting a tray of snacks in the kitchen corner.

The girl looks at her with wide eyes.

**End.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rikuo's probably gonna outlive his friends, and I feel like he's the type to keep an eye on their family in the years after.  
> ( I was aiming for a Natsume's Book of Friends sort of vibe, but I don't know if this turned out creepy instead:/ )
> 
> 1\. Origami: the art or process of paper folding. Back  
> 2\. Sake: Japanese alcoholic drink made from rice. Back  
> 3\. Dango: small round dumplings made from rice flour. Can be sweet or salty depending on the variety. Back  
> 4\. Haori: the kimono version of a jacket. Back  
> 5\. Kanji: Chinese characters used in the Japanese writing system. Back


	2. Omake

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yui meets the other side.

**Omake**

“You make better Dango than Natsumi.”  
  
Yui nearly screams at the sudden voice, spinning around to face the window.

A person she doesn’t recognize is sitting on her windowsill, silvery hair in contrast with a pair of stunning, blood red eyes. The moon shines through the window, illuminating the side of his face, and Yui suddenly understands what the term “unnatural beauty” means. She tries to calm her racing heart.

There is a tray of Dango—the one she set out just this afternoon—sitting in his lap. Yui stares long and hard at the half-bitten sweet in his hands, a sneaking suspicion forming.

* * *

The next time Yui sees him, she finds him in her kitchen, casual like he owns the place. He is in the middle of digging out the snacks she hid in the cupboard. Yui blinks, and blinks again.

The youkai gives her a playful smirk, and then Yui is getting a faceful of sakura petals.

* * *

Yui changes the recipe in retaliation. She hears his laughter from the shadows.

* * *

“Why windows?”

He shrugs, lounging lazily on said window, “doors are just a social construct.”

* * *

She plops down a bottle of Sake in front of him. His eyes light up in obvious interest.

Before he could reach for it though, she pulls the bottle away again. The youkai frowns unhappily at her, and Yui can’t help but think he looks like a child who just got his candy taken away. It’s kinda cute.

“Tell me your name,” Yui bargains.

He raises an eyebrow at her. “Have you not guessed yet?” he asks, leaning back against the window and folding his hands into his kimono sleeves.

Yui thinks back to the adventures in her grandmother’s diary, to the myths of the Hyakki Yakō, and to the pair of amber eyes that never changed.

The wind rustles outside.

“Nura Rikuo,” she pronounces, slowly, with care. The name feels heavy on her tongue, like an incantation. Her heart is beating a little fast.

With a smile playing at his lips, The Lord of Pandemonium tilts his head in acknowledgement.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If there's anyone still alive in this fandom, please come say hi? ;v;


End file.
